


What Makes A Lesser Man?

by Nigaki



Series: Voyeurism [2]
Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Bottom Arthur Morgan, Chapter 3: Clemens Point (Red Dead Redemption 2), Emotional Sex, Established Relationship, Fluff, Homophobic Language, Hurt Arthur Morgan, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, M/M, Micah being trash, Nightmares, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Protective John Marston, Sexist Language, Smut, Top John Marston
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:47:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25933099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nigaki/pseuds/Nigaki
Summary: Like almost every night, Micah doesn't sleep, so when he sees someone sneaking into John's tent in the middle of the night, he decides to investigate. What he finds makes him change how he thinks about certain pair of cowpokes.
Relationships: John Marston/Arthur Morgan
Series: Voyeurism [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1821586
Comments: 8
Kudos: 60





	What Makes A Lesser Man?

**Author's Note:**

> Another entrance to my Voyeurism series but less enjoyable. I feel dirty after writing from Micah's pov, I want to cut my fingers off now.

Micah rarely slept. Ever since he remembered, he was mostly just napping, usually during the day. At night, he was wide awake, watching, waiting. He didn’t know for what, maybe for those who walked in their dreams? Maybe he waited for nothing and just liked the night, the quietness. Especially in the gang with so many people, a night was a peaceful time. There was no japing, no annoying laughter of that Marston brat, no barking of that stupid mutt. Just quiet.

He had no idea why Dutch was still keeping most of those people around. Why he needed a constantly drunk Reverend, or that parasite Uncle. Why he needed so many women while they weren’t even spreading their legs for the men. Why he kept a woman with a child when those two weren't doing anything, why he kept that rat faced German or Austrian. There was so much potential in this gang and all of it wasted with some ridiculous dreams about a family. If Micah was the leader, he would throw the trash out, starting with the women and the kid. Then he would drown that mutt in the lake.

Micah would only keep the strongest or those that knew their place. That means no Sean, Hosea, Sadie or Charles. That mixed spawn was thinking he was better than Micah. The gang with such individuals that would be left, would terrorize the whole America with ease. It could happen even tomorrow, if Dutch wasn’t such a coward. Until then, Micah would have to just grit his teeth and try his best to make something out of this group, even with all those weeds growing around.

He enjoyed his quiet night, sitting by the fire near the horses. Usually he would be somewhere else, near the lake or closer to the path leading to the camp, but it was rather chilly today, those sleeping outside took out blankets to cover themselves, so Micah decided to stay where it was warm as well.

He could hear the distance snoring of Uncle sleeping behind one of the wagons, horses snorting in their sleep and occasionally a turn or two from the other gang members. He could hear the water of the lake moving with a gentle wind and critters running around. He could hear hurried footsteps.

Micah turned his head sharply towards the sound, revolver already drawn and ready to shoot. It wasn’t Sadie on guard, he didn’t hear her earlier and she wouldn’t come from the direction of the lake.

He squinted his eyes to see better and caught a glimpse of the shadow moving quickly through the clearing, almost in panic. The shadow reached Marston’s tent and went inside, closing the flaps behind itself. With his curiosity peaked, Micah got up slowly and as quiet as a wild cat on a hunt, he approached John’s tent just as the lamp inside was lit.

Micah slowed down, trying to hear what was going on inside. Was it Abigail sneaking into John’s tent at night? Was she that prude she couldn’t ask him for a good fuck during day? No, the shadow was too big and Abigail was sleeping somewhere else. When he turned to look there, he could still see her and her brat, snuggled under the blanket, illuminated by the light from the fire.

It was someone else. Molly? Was she cheating on Dutch?

“It’s alright,” he heard John’s hoarse voice when he was close enough. “It was just a dream.”

If he didn’t just see Jack sleeping and the shadow was smaller, Micah would’ve thought Marston was playing the role of a daddy. Then who the…

“I know,” a shaky voice answered. A man’s voice. The flaps weren’t tied, Micah peeked inside where Marston and Morgan were sitting on the cot, Marston’s arm wrapped around Morgan and rubbing his shoulder soothingly while the older man was covering his face with his palm, the other squeezing John’s hand tightly. Well, that was unexpected. Especially the shaking that was consuming Morgan’s body. “It’s just… Shit.” Arthur dropped his hand from his face and looked at the other man. “I thought I would never get out of there and I would just watch you being caught.”

So that's what it was about. Big scary Morgan was having bad dreams about his fun time with O’Driscoll. Micah wanted to snort. How weak do you have to be to be affected by that? And he always thought Arthur was a mean one, someone who had no fear, like Micah. Turned out he was just a scared little boy who had to look for comfort in the arms of another man.

Pathetic.

“I'm sorry I didn’t look for you,” John said, now he sounded like a little boy. And this man was a father. “I would’ve, Arthur, I swear, but Dutch.”

“I understand.” Morgan moved out of the embrace to face John more, but their hands stayed connected. The younger man turned as well. “Don’t blame yourself, I should’ve been more careful out there.”

“No, Micah should’ve sent someone with you.”

That wasn't his damn fault! How was he supposed to know it would be a trap for him?! Besides, Morgan was fine, wasn't he? He was still hurt and was yet to return to riding out but he survived. With all the pampering everyone was doing to him when he was unconscious, it couldn’t have been any other way.

“It doesn’t matter,” Arthur sighed tiredly, letting go of John’s hand to brush his fingers over the unscarred cheek. Marston gently grasped the hand back again and brought it to his lips, pressing them against it.

Micah’s eyes widened in shock. Marston and Morgan… No, that must be a mistake. They were just friends, nothing more.

“It does,” John said softly, still holding Arthur's hand, his other was stroking Morgan’s side in a calming manner. “You dream about this.”

“Just another nightmare to my collection.” Arthur’s tone was dismissive but his face was showing something completely different. He was still spooked. Micah was disgusted by a weak man like that. “You know how it is, I’ll be alright with time.”

John nodded sadly but still didn’t let go. “Want to sleep with me tonight?” he asked, hopeful.

Morgan gulped, considering. Micah was sure he was going to say no or that he would laugh at John for suggesting something that ridiculous but he actually nodded.

“Yeah,” he answered with a shaky breath.

Marston smiled and leaned closer, joining their lips together. Micah’s eyes almost popped out of his head. They were! They were a pair of dirty, fucking homosexuals! How were they still allowed at camp? Full of other men they could infect? Did Dutch know about this or was he unaware his precious sons were inverts?

Micah wanted to bust inside and beat both of them, maybe that would heal them from this gross thing. But they were two and he was only one. Morgan was still weak after escaping Colm but Marston? No, Micah knew his limits, sadly. John would beat him to a pulp, if not kill him.

So he watched. Why the hell was he watching as these two inverts kissed tenderly like a pair or disgustingly sweet lovers? Arthur wrapped his arms around John’s neck and practically climbed into his laps, just letting the other man lead, letting John explore his mouth and press him firmly against the other strong body.

Disgusting, simply disgusting. And yet he kept watching, he couldn’t turn away his eyes. Just like from that hangman he once saw when he was just four. The blood was dripping from the wounds their neighbors put on that repulsive sodomite before they collared him and the man swung. Micah stared at him for hours, watching as crows started pecking his eyes out and how the branch finally broke under the weight of the body. It was disgusting to him then but he just couldn’t stop.

This was equally disgusting and once again, he was too fascinated to turn away.

“Come on, let’s go to sleep,” John whispered, his lips barely moving, still connected to Morgan’s.

They were both ready to get back to bed, John in his union suit, Arthur just in his drawers, his chest naked, with a new angry looking scar on his shoulder. That was the only thing left from that horrendous beating that Colm’s served him. Truly a reason to be terrified enough to seek the bed of another man in fear. 

Arthur moved away to get comfortable on the cot while John stood up and dimmed the light but left it on, like for a scared child. When he turned back to the bed, he smiled at Arthur who was already laying down on his back, the dissolved and ignored blanket by his feet. John climbed in next to him, laid down on his side and placed his hand on Arthur’s chest that was rising and falling quicker than it should. This fool was still scared.

“It’s okay,” John repeated his previous words, stroking the naked skin softly.

Morgan took a deep breath and turned to face him. John’s hand wrapped around his waist and brought him closer till they were connected almost at the whole length of their bodies. Arthur returned the embrace, his hand going around John’s wide chest in which he hid his face, taking another deep breath that shuddered this time.

Micah was sure that was it, they would go to sleep now, they were both quiet for a while. John stroked Arthur's back while he just laid in his arms, trying to calm down. Micah didn’t expect him to speak.

“Please.”

A pathetic little whine that should never escape any man's mouth. Yet it left Arthur’s and it did so easily like it wasn't the first time. The lack of surprise on John was proving that too.

“What is it, Arthur?” he asked, softly, gently. He wasn't speaking to a man, he was speaking to a frightened child.

“Touch me,” Arthur asked, raising his head and kissing Marston again. John moaned and brought his hand to Morgan’s face, stroking the long beard, brushing his thumb over the cheek. Their lips separated and Arthur looked into John’s eyes. “Just… I could still feel the beating. I… want to feel something different.”

A pain and anger flashed through John’s face.

“They didn’t…,” he stuttered nervously, angrily. He was shaking with it. “They haven’t…”

Morgan kissed him quiet. How many times could they kiss? Didn’t they have enough of that sweetness?

“I already told you no,” Arthur reminded him, holding John’s face with one hand like John was doing to him.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if you hid it from me just to not worry me,” John admitted, frightened.

“They didn’t rape me, Marston, they were just beating me for fun,” Arthur explained and he shivered. Even talking about it was scaring him. Micah would never look at him the same ever again.

As annoying as Morgan was with being a kind soul, at least he was strong, or so Micah thought. In reality he was just pathetic.

“Okay,” Marston agreed, catching Micah’s attention again. They kissed once more, more soundly than the previous, with more desperation. Morgan practically climbed John, tossing his leg over his hip and grinding into him, causing them both to moan. “Okay,” John repeated and moved, shushing Arthur when he whined at the loss. “Just let me…”

With shaking fingers, John started unbuttoning his union suit. By the time he was finally done, Arthur was already naked, cock surprisingly limp for someone who was just about to fuck someone, and he was searching for something under the pillow. He pulled out a small tin can and opened it, taking a great amount of weird white salve on his fingers.

“Jesus,” John gasped and stopped with his knee on the bed that he tried to climb into again but he couldn’t move anymore when Arthur laid on his front, bent his left leg and reached behind himself to his ass.

Micah was barely holding himself together. Not only Morgan was a pathetic invert, he was also the one being fucked? Like some woman? If someone would ever try something like that on Micah, he would kill the man with his bare hands. He wasn't an invert, but he if he was, he would never allow someone to fuck him, to degrade him to the role of some bitch.

And Morgan was doing it willingly. He pushed one finger inside, wincing at the discomfort but then quickly relaxing and sighing in satisfaction. He was liking it. He liked being fucked in the ass like some whore.

John watched him captivated, his mouth open, tongue appaering once in a while to wet the lips. He reached to the cock between his legs and with just a few strokes, he brought himself to complete hardness while Arthur was still impaling himself on his own fingers.

“Here, let me,” Marston said, out of his weird trance. He climbed onto the bed again, laid next to Arthur and picked up a tin with the white stuff laying on the pillow next to Morgan’s head.

Arthur didn’t stop, he kept fucking himself while looking straight at John who had this dumb look on his face, like he never saw something more beautiful. Micah had never seen something this disgusting.

“John,” Arthur breathed with pleasure. Marston bit his lower lip and quickly scoped the white salve on his fingers, spreading it on almost all of them.

“I got, you Arthur,” he whispered, kissing Arthur while he moved the man’s hand so his own could take its place and brought their bodies together again. Morgan moaned into his mouth when the first finger probed him. “That’s it, sweetheart, open up for me.”

“John,” he said again, needy, pushing his hips back. Their lips were just inches apart, ready to kiss again at any moment but they didn’t, they just stared at each other while John’s finger was going deep into Morgan, making him groan and moan.

Micah didn’t want to believe it was this pleasurable. Yet Morgan was moaning like a bitch in heat. Quietly, to not alert the rest of the camp, but other than that he wasn't holding back.

Morgan put his leg over John's hip again, rutting against him and his finger, making it go deeper. Marston stopped breathing for a short moment when it happened and when his breath returned to him, he was panting now with pleasure.

“Shit, Arthur,” he cursed, slipping another finger in. Arthur bit into his shoulder to muffle his loud groan. “You’re doing so good, Art. So perfect for me.”

“John.”

It was like Arthur wasn't capable of saying anything else but Marston’s name. He started repeating it like a mantra, like it was calming him.

Marston turned them suddenly, pressing Arthur into the bed. The little bitch moaned happily and spread his legs wide while John sat himself down between them. He held Arthur’s calf with on hand, spreading him wider and still fucking him with the other.

Arthur was hard by now, leaking, his head tossed back. His eyes were open and he was staring up, panting with every insert of John’s fingers into him. He looked like he was in heaven, his body comfortable and relaxed, red with blush while the pleasure was consuming it.

“John, please…” he begged. Micah grimaced hearing the desperation in his voice.

John leaned down and kissed him briefly, silencing his next moan before moving to his neck and placing another kisses there. He wasn't even biting, staking his claim, he was just pressing his lips to the skin gently, first to the neck, then to the collarbone and the chest. He sucked one nipple when his mouth found it, making Micah’s stomach twist with disgust. Something that he was always enjoying while laying with women, now looked disgusting performed by these two.

Arthur laced his fingers through John's hair while the younger man kept sucking his nipple. His breath was shaky and mixed with moans whenever Marston sucked harder and fingers were sinking inside him completely.

Suddenly, Morgan’s body jerked like it was punched. He tensed and arched his chest into John’s mouth, wisely covering his own because the moan that escaped his throat was loud and obscene.

What the hell was that?

“Again,” he panted, his palm still partially covering his lips. “Do it again, John, right…”

He didn’t finish, he mewled when John did it again, whatever it was, Micah couldn’t tell and didn’t even want to know what inverts had in their asses that made them sound like that.

“I got you, Art, I got you,” John said again soon after and pulled out his fingers. Arthur handed him the tin and Marston quickly covered his cock with the white stuff. He grabbed both of Morgan’s legs and spread them wide, settling once again between them, this time closer.

Arthur looked at him, his eyes begging.

John took a deep breath and entered, gritting his teeth like in pain but he was just holding down the pleasure. Morgan didn’t do the same and moaned quietly, relieved, little and quick puffs of breaths escaping his mouth.

“It’s been a while,” John said through his clenched teeth, moving forward inch by inch until he was fully in between Morgan’s thighs. “Shit, Arthur, I ain’t sure how long I'm going to last.”

“It’s okay,” Arthur assured him, laying down helplessly under Marston, almost like an offering. “Just… Just fuck me, please.”

“Yeah, okay,” Marston agreed and started rutting slowly against Arthur who sighed with pleasure. “You’re safe, Arthur, it’s okay.”

“I know,” Arthur replied, shaking slightly with John's every thrust, even if they were small. “Keep going, Johnny.”

“I will,” John promised, making his thrusts a little harder, a little deeper. Arthur gasped. “I’ll take care of you.”

Marston’s voice was so gentle and so sweet it almost made Micah puke. Even a woman would be repulsed by such a wimpy man. Maybe that’s why Abigail wasn’t sleeping with him, because she was looking for a strong, confident man and all she got was this.

“You always do,” Arthur muttered back, breathing shallow and tremblingly. His toes curled when John pressed against him again. “Taking such a good care of me,” he added and looked at Marston, smiling at him.

“Always,” John swore, breathless, god knows why, he was hardly moving. “Had to repay you somehow for all those years you took care of me.”

Arthur chuckled. “I deserve a medal for that.” His second chuckle was interrupted with a breathy moan when Marston snapped his hips harder before continuing at slow pace. What kind of man fucks so gentle?

“Shut up,” John ordered him, there was humor in his voice. He kept looking at Arthur and fucking into him with deep but slow thrust, he was barely moving his hips, only to rotate them a little which was making Arthur’s breath hitch and his eyes flutter close. “You good?”

“Yeah, keep that rhythm, darling,” he panted. “I want it slow today.”

Micah wasn't going to believe those two inverts were capable of fucking like a man. They weren't even that. Though John was closer to being a man than Arthur, that was for sure.

“Yeah, me too. You feel good like that,” Marston admitted and wrapped Arthur’s legs around his hips before leaning down towards him, supporting himself on his forearms. Morgan stared at him in admiration. “You’re safe, Arthur. I ain’t letting them hurt you again. I won’t let Colm lay a hand on you ever again, sunshine, I’ll kill him with my bare hands.”

John groaned with the last word, articulating his promises with another particular hard thrust that made Morgan let out a keened moan. 

Arthur’s legs tightened around him, bringing him deeper. He shuddered when Marston stilled like that for a moment before he continued, once the thighs between which he was in got a little slack and he could move again, his thrust now slower but also harder. Every snap of Marston’s hips was making Morgan moan and his body jerk with the force of it, punching all of the air out of him.

“Shit, John.” Arthur now clung to Marston completely, embracing him with his arms as well as his legs, bringing him down onto his body and into it, crossed ankles on the small of Marston’s back pulling him deeper. “I was so scared.”

Micah couldn’t see their faces but he heard some kisses. When John moved his head a little, he was kissing all over Morgan’s face.

“I know,” he whispered softly, his lips brushing over Arthur's forehead. “But you’re here now, you’re not going back. You’re with me and I’m never letting you go.” John covered Arthur’s body entirely, protecting him from any harm, from silly dreams. “I’ll keep you safe. I love you, darling.”

“John…” Morgan moaned, gripping John’s hair in his hand, the other scratching the younger man’s back, leaving bright, red lines on it. “Love you too,” he gasped, choking on his own words, maybe even tears. Micah wouldn’t be surprised. These two were really weak like no man he has ever seen before.

Love, they were in love. Ridiculous. Homosexuals couldn’t love. 

“Don’t hold back,” Marston told him, panting now just as Arthur whose breathing became quicker and then it was silenced suddenly. They were kissing again, Micah winced at the sloppy sounds they were making, at their muffled moans.

They came like that, wrapped in each other like two pansies, without any aggression that should always motivate two men in bed. Instead they just slowly fucked and kissed till Arthur came untouched like a woman, almost crushing Marston with his arms and legs, stopping him completely from moving when Arthur’s body tensed with pleasure. John could only rut against him desperately for a few seconds and apparently it was enough to bring him over the edge too. He emptied himself with a broken moan into Arthur, his hips jerking a couple of times with the intensity of his climax before they stopped and he just laid down on the older man, still inside him, their cheeks pressed together, with Arthur holding John close, as if afraid to let go.

They panted, waiting for their breaths to get calmer and their body to stop shivering. Arthur stroked John’s back lazily while John kissed his neck and jaw, not caring that he wasn't even touching the skin because of the long beard on Arthur's face. 

Micah was sure they would fall asleep like that but then Marston stirred and lifted himself off Arthur, who looked both relieved and disappointed..

“I’ll go get us some water,” Marston explained, seeing a questioning look on Arthur's face. “You don’t want to have cum dry on the hair down there.”

Arthur chuckled, remembering something from the past. “Sorry.”

John didn’t even put his union suit back on, he picked Morgan’s drawers and dressed in it. It hung a little loose around his thin hips but he didn’t care. Arthur stayed in bed, watching the younger man who bent down and kissed him again. “You okay?”

“Perfect,” Morgan sighed and reached his hand to John's face, brushing the wet hair out of his eyes and putting it behind his ear. “Thank you, I needed that.”

Micah didn’t need to see John’s face to know the invert was smiling. He brought Morgan’s hand to his lips and kissed it like earlier. “I’m always there when you need me, Arthur,” Marston promised sweetly.

“I know, thank you,” he said again, looking absolutely in love right now. Disgusting. “Next time I have a nightmare we can do it again. Feel free to come to me with your nightmares too. Who knew fucking was so good at helping you forget.”

John snorted. “Maybe I will,” he said, placing another kiss, this time only on Arthur's forehead. “I’ll be right back. You okay with being alone for a while?”

“I’ll be alright, I don’t even remember the dream anymore.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” John replied cheekily. This sweettalking was somehow even worse than seeing Marston’s naked ass while he was fucking Arthur. No, not fucking. Poking. That wasn't fucking, this requires strenght and aggression. 

Arthur smiled back at him. “You do that, just don’t gloat too much, especially in public.”

“I have enough embarrassment with what we’re doing in bed,” John chuckled, facing the flaps with his body but looking at the other man. Time to flee. “But I always knew I was this good.”

“The best,” Morgan confirmed.

If they said anything else, Micah didn’t hear them because he was already half way back to the campfire. He was sitting like nothing happened when Marston finally left the tent. He first went to get a bucket, filled it with some water from the lake and while returning, he picked some of Arthur's clothes too before disappearing inside his tent.

Morgan stayed the night, they both left the tent together at dawn, not afraid of being noticed, like it was normal. Micah watched them all morning, how stuck together they were. Morgan was still that scared of being alone.

Coward.

At some point of the day, John and Arthur stopped by their horses, brushing them and talking over it. They didn’t look suspicious, like one of them had fingers and a dick up his ass last night. They looked normal but Micah knew already it was just a game. They were hiding as just friends, chatting and laughing at their own jokes. He always knew inverts were smart, hiding among normal men like that. They were good but Micah knew their secret now. He wondered if he should tell everyone or use it against them, maybe scare them from the gang.

When the horses were clean. Morgan and Marston went to take a walk among the trees. Another proof they were no men, just some weak imitations. Micah followed them, keeping his distance. They stopped eventually, somewhere west from the camp. Standing side by side, they were watching the lake and chatting some more, seemingly about nothing. None of them mentioned what happened the night before and Morgan looked fine, tough like always. Only it was a lie.

“I'm thinking about going back in the saddle soon,” he admitted after they stopped remembering some situation from years ago when it was only them and Dutch and Hosea.

“That’s good. You want someone to ride with you for a while?”

“Nah, I can take care of myself.”

“I was suggesting myself.”

“I know you did.” Arthur looked at him with a smile. “I need to go alone. Get away from people. Kill some O’Driscolls.”

John chuckled and nodded.

“Alright.” 

“You better leave the hard job for real men, Morgan.”

Both men turned to him when he walked closer, revealing his presence.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Morgan asked, confused.

“Saw you last night,” he said, snarkily, thrilled to reveal he knew their secret. He enjoyed how much they paled hearing that. “I have to say, I didn’t expect you to be the one to take it up in the ass,” he told Arthur, disappointed he didn’t see him blush like a maiden or even turn his eyes away in shame. No, he got angry, furrowing his brows and clenching his fists.

“You watched us, you pervert?” he asked with disgust, stepping closer to John. How cute, he needed protection again.

Marston was fuming next to him, even angrier that Arthur.

“Just had a glimpse of a big scary Arthur Morgan crying because of a bad dream,” he mocked, grinning at their fury. So what if they were angry? They were inverts, they couldn’t do anything to him. How could he have been scared of them before? “Never thought you was such a girl.”

“Shut the hell up, Micah, you have no idea what you are talking about,” John snapped, stepping in front of Arthur protectively. They just kept giving him more reasons to insult them.

“You’re right, I don’t because I would never let myself be caught like that.” Boldly, Micah stepped closer with the intent to walk around Marston and get to Arthur, see his scared face. But Morgan still wasn't scared like the little girl he was deep inside. If Micah didn’t know he was an invert, maybe he would even get scared himself because of the stare Morgan was looking at him with. “And I certainly wouldn’t be crying because Colm O’Driscoll punched me a couple of times and still call myself a man afterward.”

What Colm could’ve done to him, really? When Arthur returned to camp, the worst wound was on his shoulder, otherwise he was fine. But weak people like him would always cry about anything. Now it made sense why Morgan was so whiny all the time, so against any fight. He was just terrified every time.

“Micah, I swear,” John warned again, moving his body to shield Arthur whenever Micah tried to walk around him.

He was ignoring Marston, enjoying Arthur's fury was way too satisfying to stop. Micah really was surprised that was the reaction and not fear – of being discovered, of Micah himself, it didn’t matter. Maybe there was still something manly in him and it was possible to cure him from sodomy. If there was, he had no interest in that.

Micah knew where to hit next. “Or was he treating you like a lady just like Marston did last night and that’s why you’re crying? Because you cheated on your lover? You had fun with Colm, Morgan?”

He laughed mockingly but Arthur didn’t even flinch, maybe they really didn’t rape him. But Micah saw with the corner of his eyes how John’s body jerked suddenly.

“One more word, Micah,” John said quietly. Micah spared him one glance, not caring about him, and went back to watching Morgan.

“You’re so weak you’re even hiding behind your man?”

He barely finished the sentence when John’s fist hit him right in the nose with a lightning speed. Micah yelled in pain and crashed into the ground. Some rock dug itself into his side where he fell, the broken nose started bleeding like crazy, the blood entering his open mouth, filling it with metallic taste.

Micah groaned and propped himself on his elbow, squeezing his eyes shut tight when he felt his nose throbbing. God that hurt, Marston had a punch in those weak arms. He didn’t expect that.

He stared up at them, John was looking like he was ready to kill, his body shaking with rage, fist clenching on nothing but most likely wanting to clench on someone’s throat. And Arthur… Arthur was just smirking smugly. Who the hell this invert thought he was?!

“I wasn’t hiding, Micah,” he explained and stepped closer to John, placing a hand on the small of his back. Marston instantly relaxed a little. “I just have better control than him.”

That small relaxing touch did nothing to stop John from coming forward. Micah tried to crawl away, angry at himself for showing fear in front of them. He didn’t go far and Marston was soon above him, holding him by the collar of his shirt to tug him closer. Micah tried to swat his hands away, punch him back but John only grabbed one of his wrists and squeezed with a surprising strength for an invert. Micah clenched his teeth and swallowed a groan of pain. He wouldn’t show weakness in front of him!

“You watch us again like that, you sick bastard or speak to Arthur like that ever again and I swear, Micah, I’ll rip your tongue out and make you eat it,” John spat at him, his voice low and dangerous, and what's worst, honest. Marston threw him back on the ground with disgust and stepped back, now smirking too. “And just for your information. I like taking it up in the ass too.”

Micah bit his tongue before he could reply how sickening and humiliating it was to be in a position of a woman, fucked by another man like some whore. And Marston was just bragging about it like it was something to be proud of.

Arthur joined, looking satisfied as ever. He smiled proudly at John and then looked at Micah.

“Is that tears I’m seeing, Micah?” he mocked, pointing at the tears Micah couldn’t hold anymore. Not when he felt like someone was putting a burning coal inside his nose. “Did it hurt this much?”

“Screw you, Morgan!” he wheezed. “I ain’t scared of two inverts!”

Morgan looked at him in such contempt that it made Micah’s blood boil. He wanted to punch Morgan and then Marston in their dumb faces and show them their place. But when Arthur kneeled within a range of his punch, Micah did nothing. With the corner of his eyes he noticed John watching them like a hawk, ready to strike again. And Morgan looked intimidating too, prepared to protect himself if needed. There was nothing of that scared image Micah saw last night left in him, nothing weak in both of them. He had two strong and confident men before him. And the fact that such men were inverts too, was making him see red. They didn’t deserve all of that, damnit!

“You would start speaking after an hour in Colm’s hold,” Morgan told him in a low voice. “And you would pass out if you had to take out a bullet out of your arm and then sanitize the wound.” Arthur narrowed his eyes even more and somehow, his tone became lower, like a threatening growl of a beast. “Don’t ever call me a lesser man for crying or letting another man make love to me, Micah, when you’re hardly a man yourself, you cockroach.”

Arthur spat next to him and got up. He wrapped an arm around Marston's waist and steered him away, deeper into the woods. John glanced at Micah over his shoulder, giving him one last warning with his cold, menacing stare.

Micah laid on the dirty ground for a few more minutes, till his nose stopped hurting so much. He stumbled to the lake and cleaned it, wincing and moaning every time he touched the nose. Son of a bitch Marston was going to pay one day for that. He would show both of them one day, cut their dicks off and shove them up their asses since they liked it so much. He wasn't going to let inverts win, they would hang like that one he saw when he was a boy. But he would smile at the sight this time.


End file.
